


Home Before Dark

by revampired



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Victor Nikiforov, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 07:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11122785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revampired/pseuds/revampired
Summary: While walking Vicchan, seven year old Yuuri Katsuki finds his friend Viktor struggling to get to the shore of a frozen pond. Warming him up from possible hypothermia isn't exactly how he expected their first playdate to go, but he supposes he'll take it - especially if it means keeping him away from whoever made him run off in the first place.Written forthiskink meme prompt for Viktor getting hypothermia.





	Home Before Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! Mind all the above tags before you read! This prompt just wouldn't leave my head. It's amazing what inspiration will hit when you're avoiding your big multi-chapter AU. If you're interested in the other fic I wrote for this prompt, link is [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11074665).
> 
> This is set in a separate AU where Yuuri and Viktor are kids and friends already, and it once again kind of fudges the exact medical info. You're not supposed to expose someone with hypothermia to direct heat, but the thought of the two of them under a kotatsu was so cute so I wrote that in anyway. Also, again, if you or someone you know gets hypothermia, you really should get them immediate professional medical attention.
> 
> Also, slight trigger warning for mentions of child abuse. Nothing explicit or on-screen, but it's definitely mentioned a few times. It's also by a random OC who doesn't show up at all in the action of the fic.

A series of short, aggressive  _ barks _ pulled Yuuri from the comic he was reading, and he peeked up from over his brand-new glasses to see his puppy whining and pawing at the front door. 

“Whats wrong, Vicchan?” he asked, scratching his toy poodle around the ears, “Needa go out?”

Vicchan looked up at him with big puppy eyes, as if to plead,  _ yes, please _ .

Yuuri nodded, determinedly, and peeked his head into the kitchen where his mother was preparing fresh vegetables for dinner. 

“Okaasan?” he asked, shy, “Vicchan needs a walk. Can I take him?”

His mother turned around, smiling warmly, and tapped her chin. “So responsible,” she cooed, but her expression changed as she looked to the swirling white snowfall outside, “Hmm, it’s a little cold, don’t you think? How about you and Mari-chan take him for a walk together?”

Disappointment pooled in Yuuri’s gut. He was  _ seven _ , he could handle a little walk with his dog. 

Vicchan whined again and scratched at the door. Yuuri sighed and realized he couldn’t keep the poor boy waiting, and he wouldn’t want to disobey his mother. 

“Mari,” he called against the wood of her door, trying to keep the whine out of his voice, “Can you come walk Vicchan with me?”

“Ugh, fine,” came the exasperated reply, and his fourteen year old sister emerged, clad in black and with a thick beanie covering her hair. 

Hiroko bundled the two of them up in thick down jackets and scarves, much to Mari’s chagrin, and waved them out the door, calling, “Be safe!” 

Yuuri insisted on holding the leash as they crunched through a layer of snow, a few inches thick. The icy wind nipped at Yuuri’s face as they walked, stopping intermittently to clean up Vicchan’s mess. 

There was a lovely wooded walk, right behind their house, with winding trails surrounded by bare tree trunks, black against the white sky and ground. It was quiet in winter, the animals hibernating in holes in the trunks, only a few birds remaining to pick at the birdfeeders the Katsukis diligently kept.

Vicchan whined after a while, snuffled at the ground in agitation.

“What’s wrong, boy?” Yuuri prodded. “Are you cold? Should I carry you?”

“If you carry him he won’t get the exercise from the walk,” Mari pointed out, and Yuuri flushed, embarrassed. 

“What if he gets frostbite on his feet?” he pouted, pleading Vicchan’s case, while Vicchan continued to sniff at the ground as though looking for something. 

Mari rolled her eyes, “You worry too much, little brother.” 

Her phone buzzed, then, and she pulled it out to answer a text. Yuuri glowered, upset that no one was as properly worried as he was. Vicchan tugged on the leash with the full force of his toy-poodle body, and Yuuri  _ hmphed _ and continued along the path, leaving Mari behind.

Yuuri had never seen Vicchan so aggravated. He whined and tugged at the leash, unaware of how nervous Yuuri was becoming at his strange behavior. 

All of a sudden, Vicchan  _ bolted _ as though possessed, dashing through dark trees and under logs as he veered off the path.

“ _ Vicchan _ !” Yuuri called, tearing up as his little legs struggled to keep up with Vicchan. “Vicchan, come back!” 

Where was Mari?

Yuuri panted as he ran deeper into the woods, until the houses visible through gaps in the trees disappeared and it was only cracked tree trunks and dead leaves peeking through the snow. 

“ _ Yuuri! _ ” Mari called from somewhere far away, and Yuuri looked around wildly, wondering where they were. 

Vicchan whined and paced up and down in front of a pond, barking intermittently at the broken ice over the black water. 

Yuuri stilled, following his puppy’s gaze just as panic began to prickle at his skin. “What’s wrong, boy?” 

Vicchan scrambled at the ice at the edge of the pond, whining. Yuuri gulped, picturing a sharply cold ghost emerging from the water, wrapping its hands around his neck and dragging him under. Dogs could sense those better, right?

Then, the water moved. 

Yuuri squeaked and jumped back.

A flash of cold silver bobbed above the surface. Then, the stark white of a bare hand and arm, reaching above the swirling dark. 

_ Ghost _ , Yuuri’s mind unhelpfully supplied, while Vicchan’s barking grew more and more frantic. 

Finally, a face popped up from the water and blue-tinted lips opened to heave, to cough, to gasp desperately for breath.

Not a ghost, Yuuri realized with dawning horror, just a boy. A drowning, gasping, freezing boy, struggling toward the shore. And, oh god, he’d recognize that silver head anywhere.

The beloved shining star of his elementary school, three years his senior, who skated at the same ice rink as him - one day, Yuuri had fallen after a sad attempt at a flip jump, crashed right into Viktor. Instead of being mad, Viktor had latched onto him, coaching him with all his ten-year-old wisdom through the jump.

From then on, Viktor stuck to him at every opportunity - leaving his older friends to sit with Yuuri during lunch, playing with him during recess, then holding him up during skating practice until his coach was red in the face with anger for ignoring his own routines. 

Why someone so beautiful, so beloved, so  _ talented _ \- Viktor could skate circles around even people five years his senior - had latched onto him, Yuuri would never know. He’d be lying if he didn’t love Viktor’s company, though, and at the edge of the pond he suddenly saw a future of shared lunches and cold ice rinks vanishing.

“ _ Viktor _ ! I’m coming,” Yuuri called out, inching forward to the surface, “I’m gonna get you!” 

He nudged at the edge of the water with his toes, disturbing the liquid black of the surface. Cold, cold water seeped in through his sneakers, and he swallowed down his screams as he took a deep breath and  _ leapt. _

The water began sapping his seven-year-old strength immediately, and he inched further in, fighting desperately against the awful, piercing cold. 

_ “Yuuri!” _ Mari’s panicked voice came from shore, just a few feet away.  _ “Yuuri get out of the water!” _

“It’s Viktor, I can’t leave him!” Yuuri tried to shout back, but the icy water seemed to steal the breath from his lungs, and he couldn’t respond.

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ ,” Mari swore, feet crunching as she paced desperately at the surface, cellphone clenched in her hand. Vicchan’s barking was a constant cacophony, the only sound yet somehow roaring louder than the ringing in Yuuri’s ears. “Oh, shit, I see him - Yuuri, oh my god, Yuuri, get out of the water, I’ll get him.”

“N-no,” Yuuri said, beginning to shiver violently, “N-n-no, I need to help him…”

“Oh my  _ god, _ Yuuri,” Mari cried out, voice cracking desperately, “Yuuri, I’m  _ getting in the water _ .”

There was a splash, and suddenly a much longer-legged Mari was approaching, faster and faster, swearing profusely at the bitter cold. 

“Yuuri,” Mari snapped, trembling from head to toe, “If you don’t get your butt out  _ right now _ , I’m going to tell Mom you ate all the leftovers when no one was looking.”

“You wouldn’t,” Yuuri cried, but Mari was already past him and sinking deeper into the pond. 

Yuuri scrambled back towards shore, towards a terrified Vicchan, his feet numbing quickly at the cold. Mari’s cellphone buzzed beside him, and Yuuri gripped onto it like it’d warm the aching cold creeping up his legs. For an awful, freezing moment, Mari’s head disappeared below the surface, and Yuuri shrieked, ready to jump in right after her-

Then she reappeared, dragging Yuuri’s beloved Viktor towards the shore. Mari stumbled onto the snowy ground, pulling his leaden limbs forward and out of the icy water. He coughed, gripping his chest like his heart and lungs were frozen in his chest, like he couldn’t breathe, and he let out a sob as he fell onto the solid ground, shivering so hard it was like watching convulsions.

“We need to get home,” Mari rasped, lips blue-tinged, trembling just as hard. “We need to get home  _ now _ .”

* * *

The door burst open, cracking as loud as a firecracker as they tumbled into the warmth. It was chaos - Vicchan barking, Viktor groaning, Yuuri crying, and Mari screaming, “Help _ , we need help! _ ”

Hiroko ran in, face changing quickly from alarmed to horrified as she took in the trio-plus-dog, but she swallowed it down and quickly took control of the situation, assessing Yuuri’s crying and his squelching shoes, and the soaked and trembling bodies of her daughter and Viktor. 

“Yuuri, shoes and pants off - get an extra pair from the laundry. Mari, can you make it upstairs?” Mari nodded, making involuntary noises at the cold. Hiroko grimaced. “Okay, Mari, go upstairs and change out of your wet clothes.  _ Toshiya _ ,” she called at her husband in the other room, “grab the blankets from the closet. Bring out some of your old shirts and shorts too, okay? Then run to check on Mari.” 

Yuuri stayed put as Mari raced upstairs, pulling her soaked jacket and shoes off along the way. He gripped Viktor, who had sunk to his knees, and yelped when he leaned his icy silver head against his stomach. Vicchan, still frantic, ran after Mari, trying to rub against her feet to warm her up.

“ _ Yuuri _ ,” Hiroko said, firmly, but Yuuri just sniffled pitifully and stayed by Viktor. Hiroko sighed, knowing she needed to work quick, and turned to him. 

“Viktor, dear, it’s Mrs. Katsuki,” Hiroko repeated, “You need to change out of your wet things. My husband is bringing some extra clothes now. I’m going to turn away, so you can get dressed, okay?” 

Viktor nodded, blearily, and Yuuri wasn’t sure if he’d actually understood. Toshiya appeared with an old sweater and sweatpants, which Yuuri recognized as belonging to Mari - but then, Yuuri was too small for Viktor to borrow any of his clothes. 

Hiroko turned around conspicuously, motioning Toshiya away, and Yuuri made to do the same - only to have Viktor grip his hand. He looked down to see brilliantly blue eyes staring up at him, silently pleading for him to stay put. 

So, he did.

Viktor sniffled and began to work at the buttons on his shirt, hands shaking, stiff and swollen and unable to move nimbly enough to undo them. After a few moments, he let out a frustrated sob and slumped down.

Hiroko turned back and smiled at him sadly, taking in his long, limp hair, his anguished expression, his hands cold and clasping at buttons he couldn’t undo. 

“Do you need me to get those for you?” she said, softly. 

Viktor nodded, eyes filling with tears. Hiroko kissed him on the forehead, all motherly warmth and reassurance, and delicately undid the buttons on Viktor’s shirt. The shirt slipped, wetly, from his shoulders and onto the floor.

Yuuri gasped. Hiroko didn’t gasp - but her eyes widened. There was a bright, blue-black bruise on Viktor’s stomach, off to the side. It stretched from his protruding hipbone up to the edge of his ribs, dark like the swirling pond they’d found him in. There were other marks, dark yellow on his arms and shoulders. 

Questions popped up to the tip of Yuuri’s tongue, but Hiroko stayed him with a look. She handed over the sweater, black and covered with cutesy skulls, one Mari had called  _ childish _ a year ago - and Viktor pulled it on, face downcast and lips trembling in cold and shame. 

Viktor pulled off his pants and underwear himself, sweater big enough to cover him down to his mid-thighs, and pulled on the sweatpants. He wouldn’t stop clinging to Yuuri, whose feet were feeling  _ very _ numb by this point, and his eyes were wide, blinking and bleary and very confused. 

Yuuri decided just to sit next to him and pull his shoes and pants off. Suddenly, his feet weren’t covered by squelching cold, and he flexed his toes to let the warmth of the house surround him. 

“We’re done, okaasan,” Yuuri mumbled, still shivering, just a little. 

Hiroko turned and couldn’t contain a giggle at Yuuri’s appearance, his scarves and thick down jacket and no pants. She grabbed a scarf and wrapped it around Viktor’s wet head.

“Let me fetch you two some hot chocolate, how does that sound?” She asked, poking Yuuri on the nose. “And you, you need to fetch some pants.”

Yuuri nodded, but Viktor still hadn’t moved, still shivering violently, eyes unfocused and dazed. Hiroko frowned and leaned in to take a closer look, but Viktor barely registered it.

Frowning in concern, Hiroko asked, “What happened?”

“Vicchan found him,” Yuuri said, “He had fallen into a pond, so we all tried to get him out.” 

“How long was he there?” Hiroko asked, voice taking on an urgency that made Yuuri’s heart pound. 

“I don’t know,” Yuuri admitted, “He was underwater when Vicchan found him. I got so scared, so I tried to jump in to get him, but Mari told me not to. So she jumped in to get him instead.” 

Viktor barely seemed to register that they were talking about him. He closed his eyes and leaned against Yuuri again, the shivering sending vibrations against Yuuri’s stomach, even through his coat. 

Hiroko seemed to wince. “Yuuri,” she said, so calmly that it made Yuuri afraid, “Next time, you get an adult, okay?” 

Yuuri’s eyes welled up with tears. “He was drowning,” he pleaded, sniffling. 

Hiroko sighed. “You were very brave,” she reassured him, “but the cold can be very dangerous. What would have happened if Mari hadn’t been there?”

Yuuri bit his lip, fat tears falling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Hiroko kissed him on the forehead, patting his cheek. “Be careful, okay?”

Yuuri nodded, pulling away from Viktor. At that, Viktor seemed to snap back to reality, if just for a moment, and he gripped Yuuri tighter, whimpering. 

Hiroko blinked, bemused, but then she laughed. “Alright. I guess we’ll have to bring them to you.”

She left the room for a second, and suddenly the swirl of noise and sensation was gone. It was just Yuuri and Viktor, Viktor shivering in a thick woolen sweater and Yuuri half warm and half-dressed. 

The bruise on Viktor’s stomach stood out in Yuuri’s mind, an awful blemish that felt  _ wrong _ . Who had done that to him? Who  _ would _ do that to him? Was it just from falling in the water? No, Mari wasn’t bruised, water didn’t bruise-

Hiroko returned with a pair of pants and two steaming cups of cocoa.

“Cough, both of you,” Hiroko said.

Yuuri coughed. Viktor blinked, and Hiroko stared down in him in worry, eyes flitting to the outdated landline on the dresser. After just a moment, though, Viktor coughed too, and Hiroko breathed a sigh of relief.

Yuuri pulled the pants on, somehow with Viktor still clinging to him, and wrapped himself up in the blanket next to Viktor right in the doorway before sipping gratefully on the hot chocolate. Hiroko held the mug up to Viktor’s lips, and he dazedly took one sip, then another.

Viktor took the mug, almost mechanically, and began sipping on his own. 

It was like a warm hug from inside him, and heat spread from his stomach out to his heart and limbs. Viktor was still mouthing at the mug, still shivering, and Yuuri hoped it felt the same for him.

The long strands of Viktor’s hair left steaming lines on the blanket, and Viktor closed his eyes, leaning against Yuuri.

“Okay,” Hiroko said, relieved now that they were all bundled up, “What else can we get for you boys? I think they’ll need more than just one blanket, especially Viktor.” 

“Kotatsu,” Yuuri blurted out, before he could stop himself. “I mean, um…” 

“That’s an idea,” Hiroko reassured him. “Do we still have the kotatsu? We haven’t needed it since we moved to a house with central heating.” 

“I think it’s in the basement, let me bring it up,” Toshiya said, glancing back in amusement from the kitchen. 

They set up the kotatsu, layering heavy blankets over top of it, while Viktor continued to sip the cocoa like it was the only thing tethering him to consciousness. Hiroko set it on a soft, thick quilt, and surrounded it with pillows. Yuuri put his and Viktor’s mugs to the side, then moved to climb under the toasty heat of the table, only to have Viktor whine again, forcing him to stay put.

“C’mon Viktor,” he pouted, “it’ll be warm under there.”

Viktor looked up at him, blinking and unsure, and Yuuri stood up to his full height. 

“I promise, it’s really warm and cozy,” Yuuri whined, toes cold once again, now that he’d wriggled himself out of the blanket.

Viktor stood and stumbled forward, collapsing to his knees with a gasp. His cheeks burned and his breath hitched, not looking at Yuuri, not looking at Hiroko and Toshiya, who had jolted forward when he fell.

Yuuri sunk to his knees and crawled over to the kotatsu, indicating that Viktor should do the same. It took a moment, but Viktor smiled through watery eyes as he followed Yuuri.

The blanket was warm, but there was something so secure about the heat emanating from the heater under the table, the way the warmth surrounded him as he snuggled under the blanket cover, only his head peeking out. Viktor followed him, unsure, and copied his movements exactly as he lay down. 

Yuuri watched his expression go from confused to surprised to warm and content. A blissful smile spread across his lips, and he stared at Yuuri in delight, shivering lessening somewhat. 

“Wow,” he whispered, closing his eyes once again. In what felt like seconds, his breathing was slower, deeper, and Yuuri realized he’d fallen asleep. Under the warmth of the kotatsu, he felt his own consciousness slipping, and before he knew it, he’d dozed off.

The first time Yuuri woke up, he slid his gaze along Viktor’s sleeping face, down to the curve of his neck, where an ugly splotch was visible just at his collarbone. Yuuri frowned at that, and he reached out to touch it, as though he could wipe it away like a fleck of mud. 

Suddenly, he heard voices, and he drew his hand back to pretend to be asleep again.

Hiroko was speaking to Toshiya in hushed tones, and Yuuri strained to listen.

“He’s dazed, doesn’t seem to know where he is… Yuuri-chan said he’d found him in a pond. I think he’s got hypothermia,” Hiroko was saying.

“Mm,” Toshiya made a concerned noise, “Do you think we should take him to the hospital?”

“I’m worried,” Hiroko admitted, “He has a bruise on his side, and I saw others on his arms. They looked like handprints, and if we take him to a hospital, whoever did that might find him.”

Yuuri couldn’t see Toshiya’s expression, but something about it make Hiroko continue on, quickly, “I wouldn’t say that if I thought he really needed a doctor, but I think as long as we warm him up here… We know Viktor, and he knows us.” 

Toshiya asked, “Are you sure he didn’t just have a bad fall? Especially if he was in the woods?” 

Hiroko shook her head. “We’ve taken trainings on how to spot child abuse, all of the teachers at the elementary school have. It’s possible, but even the soccer kids aren’t that bruised.”

“I believe you,” Toshiya said, “What are we going to do? It’s not like we can keep him. We’ll need to call the police about this, or child protective services.” 

“I know. It can’t be helped,” Hiroko sighed, “For now, we make sure he’s nice and warm. How’s Mari-chan doing?”

“Buried under about ten blankets in her room,” Toshiya said. “Vicchan’s keeping her company.”

Yuuri frowned, not wanting Viktor to leave, and drifted off again.

The second time he woke up, it was to a pair of bright blue eyes and a curtain of silver hair draped over him.

Yuuri yelped and shot up, nearly knocking his forehead into Viktor’s and dislodging Vicchan, who barked in indignation and scrambled off from the perch he’d created while Yuuri was asleep. 

He gripped his chest, heart still pounding at the shock, and Viktor blinked at him. There was something much more lucid about his expression, and his eyes were bright and curious as opposed to glazed over. 

“Hi Yuuri,” Viktor chirped, smiling. 

Yuuri smiled, blushing. “Hi, Viktor.” Then, because it seemed like what an adult would say, he asked, “How are you?”

Viktor’s smile faltered, just a little, but he quickly plastered it back on his face. “Much better now that I’m with you,” he grinned. “You know, I thought I was imagining it at first?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “Oh?” 

“Yeah,” Viktor continued on. “I was so confused when I woke up. Like, I couldn’t really have been drinking hot chocolate with your parents at your house. It must’ve been a dream!” A warm flush darkened his cheeks, and he murmured, “I thought it was a very nice dream.”

“Do you,” Yuuri asked, a little overwhelmed, “Do you remember… anything?” 

Viktor’s smile faltered again, and this time he let it fade slightly. He looked nervous, now, picking at the too-long sleeves on Mari’s old sweater. “It was cold,” he whispered, “So cold. Then, I heard your voice, and then I wasn’t so cold anymore.” 

“Why were you in the woods?” Yuuri blurted out, before he could stop himself. 

From Viktor’s expression, that wasn’t the right question to ask, but it was too late now to take it back.

“I was walking Makkachin,” Viktor said, flatly. There was something about the way he said it that make Yuuri want to comfort him, to protect him. At the tired look on Viktor’s face, Yuuri balled his hands into fists, took a deep breath, and pulled Viktor into a tight hug. 

Viktor stiffened for just a second, but then he  _ melted _ into the touch, and he wrapped his thin arms around Yuuri’s back. It was so warm, so comforting, and if Yuuri heard a sniffle or two from the curve of his shoulder, he chose not to mention it. 

Vicchan reached up on his little hind legs to paw at Yuuri’s back and Viktor laughed and scratched the top of his head, peering out from behind Yuuri. 

“He’s so cute, he’s like a mini Makkachin,” Viktor giggled. 

Yuuri blushed at that, though he didn’t quite understand why. He’d never imagined Viktor coming over to his house, meeting his family - Viktor was  _ ten _ , he was way too old and way too cool to ask on a playdate. He’d probably think Yuuri’s comics and video games were boring and childish - but what did Viktor do at home, for fun?

As if he could read Yuuri’s thoughts, Viktor  _ hmphed _ , still clinging to Yuuri. “I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve been here! Yuuri never invites me over, how mean.”

Yuuri’s blush deepened, and he swore he felt steam coming off the tips of his bright-red ears. “Didn’t know you wanted to,” he mumbled, barely audible. 

Why  _ would _ Viktor want to come over? To his little house in the run down, older section of town. He knew where Viktor lived, in his huge, shining mansion over the hill. And Viktor had never invited him over there, saying something about his father not wanting the place to be messy, so why would he ever want to leave that gleaming house for this little wooden shed? 

That made something dawn on him - what was Viktor doing so far from his house? Walking Makkachin, he’d said, but why would his parents let him walk the dog by himself nearly two miles away when it was so cold? And where was Makkachin?

Yuuri pouted. Maybe once  _ he  _ was ten he parents would let him walk Vicchan by himself. Maybe he could walk Vicchan while Viktor walked Makkachin and they’d meet and walk together.

Viktor’s arms squeezing tighter around him drew him out of his thoughts, and he realized he’d just been sitting there, hugging Viktor and not speaking, for a good few minutes. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor whined, “I said, I didn’t understand that.”

Yuuri could barely even remember the beginning of his train of thought. He pat Viktor’s head instead of answering, looking to change the subject. 

Luckily, at that moment, a deliciously familiar smell began wafting out of the kitchen and Yuuri gasped and blurted out, “Katsudon!” 

Viktor frowned, pulling back just a little bit. “That’s what that’s called, right?” he asked, pointing to the kotatsu.

Yuuri giggled, and it was Viktor’s turn to pout. 

“No, no,” Yuuri explained, “That’s a kotatsu. Katsudon is my favorite food in the whole world! It’s, um, pork, rice, egg…” 

“Oooh,” Viktor sounded amazed, “Sounds delicious. Kotatsu, Katsudon, Katsuki…” 

Yuuri frowned at that, but Viktor was staring up at him with such a giddy smile, and he melted once again at those lovely eyes. The way Mari’s old sweats swallowed him up, making him look like a lumpy mass of warm and cozy. 

It was almost too much for his little heart to handle, and Yuuri sniffled at the sudden rush of emotion. 

Hiroko appeared in the kitchen entranceway, smiling at the boys fondly. “Hungry?”

Mari appeared behind her, looking pale and tired but generally healthy. “Careful, okaasan, or he’ll get it into his head that all he has to do to get you to make katsudon is jump in a frozen pond.”

Yuuri flushed, this time in embarrassment. “No, I won’t,” he cried out in indignation.

“Be nice, Mari-chan,” Hiroko chided.

Mari rolled her eyes, still focused on her phone. “Hey, I pulled his friend out of said pond, I’m plenty nice.” 

Viktor blinked up at the family in wonder, still clinging to Yuuri. Yuuri realized that the only time he’d actually let go was when he was asleep, underneath the kotatsu, and he found he didn’t mind. 

“Do you want food?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor’s face seemed to light up from within, and his eyes glistened as he nodded. “Can I?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course, dear,” Hiroko responded. “How about we all move to the kitchen, hm?” 

At first, Viktor seemed confused by the ground-level table, by the rice bowl, by the layout of the room. He kept shooting glances at Yuuri, only reluctantly letting go of his hand so Yuuri could eat. Luckily, he seemed at least somewhat proficient with chopsticks, though Hiroko had offered him a fork and spoon to be polite. 

His long hair kept flopping over his eyes as he tried to eat, and even tucking it behind his ear didn’t seem to work. After a few frustrated attempts, Mari offered him a ponytail holder off her wrist, and he gratefully put his hair up. 

Viktor took a bite of the breaded pork cutlet and his eyes lit up, whole body reacting to the dish. “Vkusno!” he cried out, before taking another bite, then another - and then he was gobbling down the whole bowl, bits of rice sticking to his cheeks as he ate. 

“Do you like it?” Yuuri asked, shyly. 

“Yes!” Viktor managed between bites, “I love Katsuki!

Mari burst out laughing, and Viktor stopped eating, cocking his head to the side in confusion. Then, he realized when he said, and a bright red blush colored his cheeks, the tips of his ears. 

“Katsudon!” He spluttered out, “I love katsudon, I mean.”

“I bet you do,” Mari smirked as Viktor buried himself back in his pork cutlet bowl, coughing when he inhaled a grain of rice. Hiroko shot a  _ look _ in Mari’s direction, and she went back to her bowl, snickering.

Yuuri blinked, not understanding why Viktor’s face was so red, why his own cheeks were warming considerably. 

Because he was so young, Yuuri couldn’t quite grasp the whole scope of the scene - maybe, at some point, he wondered why Viktor wasn’t going home, but mostly there was just the weird fluttering in his stomach, the warm contentment at having his friend here. It felt so right to have him over for dinner. 

Was Viktor going to sleep over? That was exciting - they could watch a movie, and maybe Hiroko would even let him eat buttery popcorn, since Viktor was there. 

“Can Viktor sleep over?” Yuuri pleaded, and beside him Viktor perked up, nodding vigorously. 

“My papa won’t have a problem with it,” Viktor assured Yuuri’s parents, who exchanged a nervous look, “He said I could sleep over at anyone’s house whenever I wanted.”

Viktor puffed out his chest proudly, clearly seeing that as a mark of maturity. There was something off about it, about the way Viktor said that, though, and everyone at the table picked up on it. Viktor seemed not to notice the tense mood, and he busied himself with the task of eating every last grain of rice from his bowl.

“Your father and I will discuss it,” Hiroko said, kindly. 

 

* * *

Yuuri and Viktor sat in the family room, Viktor chatting and Yuuri staring up at him with rapt wonder as Yuuri’s parents cleared the dishes from dinner.

“I’ve never had a home-cooked meal like that,” Viktor murmured, suddenly solemn. It wasn’t so much that his good mood changed - it felt as though a thin sheet of glass had fallen, shattering and showing the true image beneath. “Papa has a cook, but I don’t eat with her. She cooks me food and I eat it with Makkachin in the dining room.” 

“Don’t you ever eat with your papa?” Yuuri asked, cocking his head to the side. 

Viktor closed his eyes and rest his arms on his knees, voice barely audible as he whispered, “I don’t like eating with papa.” 

Yuuri leaned against him, cheek against the silky softness of his hair. “If okaasan and otousan let you stay here, I’ll ask them to make you katsudon every day.”

“That’d be nice,” Viktor smiled, “I love katsudon.”

The doorbell rang.

Hiroko peeked into the family room, looking to the clock under the TV. 

“I’ll get it, okaasan,” Yuuri called out, and Viktor gripped his hand and followed him to the door.

In the doorway stood a giant. He had a snarling, grizzled face and gray hair, a perpetual scowl and the sense that he was dealing with five different crises concurrently. Pink splotches from the cold colored his cheeks, and his hands were stiff even in thick woolen gloves. 

Yuuri gulped and stepped back, but Viktor’s eyes lit up and he gasped out, “Yakov!”

Viktor leapt forward and wrapped his skinny arms around the giant, nuzzling his cheek into his thick winter coat. From behind Yakov came a deep, booming bark, and a dark brown poodle - Makkachin, Yuuri recognized - pranced around Yakov’s legs, leaping up on his hind legs so he could press a series of licks - wet, sloppy doggy kisses - to Viktor’s face.

Yakov grumbled and tried to move away from Viktor’s over-enthusiastic puppy, but Viktor refused to release him from a hug that barely reached to his back, so he stood there with a gruff expression which barely hid the fondness in his eyes while Makkachin barked and wagged his tail and snuffled around.

Hiroko and Toshiya appeared in the doorway, and Yakov caught their eye, nodding briefly. They stepped forward, Hiroko putting her hands protectively on Yuuri’s shoulders.

Once Yuuri’s fear at Yakov’s severe appearance subsided, he noticed how relief seemed to seep into him, how the lines in his face grew softer. In his hand, Yuuri noticed a crumpled up poster, and he barely caught a grainy image of Viktor with the words  _ missing _ in dark black font.

“Come, Vitya,” Yakov growled, “Let’s get you back.”

Yuuri had a vision, suddenly, of the black and blue bruise on Viktor’s side. His irrational, protective brain never wanted anyone to touch Viktor unkindly again. Despite Makkachin’s love of him, despite the warmth in his eyes when he looked at Viktor, Yakov was tall, mean-looking, what if, what if- 

“ _ No,” _ Yuuri snapped, pulling Viktor away and wrapping his arms around him, dislodging his mother from his shoulders. “Viktor’s staying here. We’re gonna watch movies and eat katsudon, and you can’t come.”

Hiroko stiffened immediately. Yakov blinked, bemused, and looked ready to snap back. Then, he noticed the tremble of Viktor’s lower lip, the way Yuuri’s hands hovered gently over the spot on Viktor’s side with the blue-black bruise without touching, the protective curl of Yuuri’s body over Viktor’s. 

He took a deep breath, scratched at the balding spot at the top of his head, and said, “Yuuri, I’m not the one who hurt him.” 

Yuuri narrowed his eyes in disbelief, and he looked up to Viktor, who had gone an embarrassed red. 

“He’s not,” Viktor reassured him, voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t him.” 

Hiroko, Toshiya, and Yuuri relaxed noticeably, though Yuuri refused to let go. Viktor blinked rapidly and rested his cheek on the top of Yuuri’s head. 

“Are you going to tell me to go back home?” Viktor whispered to Yakov. Makkachin curled around his legs protectively, sensing his master’s distress.

Yakov glowered, and Yuuri shrunk back - Viktor, however, didn’t seem afraid. “Absolutely not,” he snarled, “You’re moving in with me, Vitya. You’re never setting foot in that miserable house again.” 

Viktor seemed to blink back tears, and he nodded, sniffling, hugging Yakov again. Yuuri, refusing to let go, found himself drawn into the hug as well. 

“Besides,” Yakov said, “You never listen to me.” 

Viktor looked up at him, letting out a watery laugh that seemed to Yuuri like something precious and rare.

There was a long, silent moment, where Viktor sniffled into Yakov’s stomach. The door was still open, icy wind swirling into the foyer, making everything cold and tense.

“Yakov-san,” Hiroko murmured, “Do you want a cup of tea?” 

Yakov started and blinked, once. Then, he sighed, pat the top off Viktor’s head with an icy hand, and said, “I’d love one.” 

 

* * *

Yuuri and Viktor sat outside in the family room while the  _ adults _ spoke in hushed whispers behind closed doors. Hiroko had made hot popcorn to appease the boys and had put on the TV for cartoons, while the puppies tumbled on the floor. Vicchan was small, but he was an endless bundle of energy that even managed to hold Makkachin’s attention.

“You’re really gonna let that stop you?” Mari, who had materialized from the upstairs after her social media ran dry, smirked at them.

Yuuri stared up guiltily, cheeks puffed out and full of popcorn, and Viktor had a sheen of butter on his lip that he sheepishly wiped away. 

Viktor swallowed thickly. “I’m not sure I want to know what they’re saying.” 

Yuuri stared at him, determined. “If they’re saying anything bad, I’ll hide you under my bed.” 

Mari nodded solemnly, putting her finger to her lips to signal she was sworn to secrecy. 

Yuuri, Viktor, and Mari pressed up against the door, listening to the murmuring within.

“Yakov-san,” Hiroko was saying, voice gentle but firmer than Yuuri had ever heard it before. “Viktor is one of Yuuri’s best friends… You know, he doesn’t make friends easily-” Yuuri’s cheeks flushed bright pink, and he hid his head in his hands, “So we care deeply for him. Please, what happened?” 

“I could ask you the same question,” Yakov growled. 

If Yuuri closed his eyes, he could imagine Hiroko closing her eyes, shaking her head. Viktor seemed to be staring intently at the door, as though he could see through to the scene within. Yuuri had never seen him like that, never seen anything but that sweet smile on his face.

“Do you want to stop?” he whispered, grabbing Viktor’s hand and holding it to his chest. Viktor closed his eyes at that, and his hand seemed to grasp, as though he was reaching for Yuuri’s heartbeat.

“You tell me what they say,” Viktor replied, closing his eyes and moving away. 

Yuuri watched Viktor walk away, curl up on his side by the TV. His hand moved lazily, taking handfuls of popcorn and bringing them to his lips, chewing mechanically. Yuuri was torn, wanting to go to him and wanting to hear what his parents were saying. He pressed his ear to the door, eyes following the tremble in Viktor’s shoulders, the back-forth of his hand to the bowl of popcorn.

“He’d fallen into a pond,” Hiroko explained, “Yuu-chan found him and brought him back. We warmed him up, and we saw, on his side…” 

There was a long pause. Finally, Yakov spoke. “When he didn’t come to practice, I knew something was wrong. He hasn’t missed a day in his life.” Then, another pause. “He’d fallen into a  _ pond _ ? Why didn’t you take him right to the hospital?”

“We were worried about whoever hurt him finding him,” Hiroko admitted, and Yuuri imagined her hiding her head in shame. “It wasn’t our finest moment, but this has clearly been going on for some time…” 

“It’s fine,” Yakov said, gruffly, “As long as he’s alright. I’d… I’d suspected. His father’s a bastard - it’s a shame money can’t buy the decency not to hit your goddamn kids. I’m sure he terrified poor Vitya half to death to make him run off like that, but he wasn’t so brave when I showed up at his door with a hockey stick.” 

Yuuri caught the cruel laughter in Yakov’s tone, and he found himself taking it in. It scared him, how happy that thought made him - but he exchanged a look with Mari and cast a glance at Viktor, still curled up on the floor. Makkachin had padded over to drape his fluffy body over Viktor’s, protectively. 

Yuuri found he couldn’t muster up any guilt about it.

“Abusers are cowards,” Yakov snarled, continuing. “I’m glad Yuuri found him before he froze to death out there - truth be told, your house was one of the first places I looked. Vitya won’t shut up about your son at the rink.”

Yuuri blushed, a warm fuzziness that had nothing to do with the heated house spreading through him. Mari nudged him, and he grumbled in embarrassment and shifted away. 

“C’mon,” he hissed at the closed door, “I need to know if Viktor can stay over.”

“Shh,” Mari hushed him. 

“I’m glad he found him, too,” Hiroko was saying. “What will you do now?”

“He’s moving in with me and my wife,” Yakov responded, “I just need to move his things and hopefully scare his bastard father more in the process.” 

“Would it maybe be helpful,” Hiroko said, hesitantly, “If he stayed here tonight? It would give you time to prepare his room for when he moves in.”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Yuuri gasped out, then immediately clapped his hand over his mouth.

There was silence behind the door and Yuuri knew he’d given himself away. He and Mari scrambled back, Yuuri moving to sit beside Viktor and play with his hair in an attempt at nonchalance, Mari running upstairs.

_ Traitor, _ Yuuri thought, watching her disappear.

“Mm?” Viktor blinked up at him. 

Yuuri didn’t answer. After a few too-long, agonized minutes, the door opened and Yuuri shook at the footsteps behind him, trying to pretend he hadn’t been eavesdropping. 

Yakov crouched beside Yuuri and Viktor, shooting Yuuri a  _ look _ that drew out a deep, bone-chilling kind of fear. Viktor didn’t seem bothered by him, though, by his gruff exterior and gnarled face. 

Then, with a gentleness that didn’t seem possible for someone so scary, Yakov pat Viktor’s head, running a calloused thumb along his cheek. “How would you like to stay the night here, Vitya?” 

Viktor looked up at Yakov, eyes impossibly wide and blue, and nodded hesitantly. Yuuri couldn’t look away from the butter on his lip. 

“Do you want Makkachin to stay with you?” 

Viktor nodded again. “Vicchan needs a friend,” he said, matter of fact. 

Yakov stilled his hand, closing his eyes in an expression that looked, to Yuuri, deeply  _ pained _ . “I’ll come get you tomorrow morning.”

He turned to walk away, but Viktor called out to him and he turned back, towering over everything even as he crouched beside them again.

“Yakov,” Viktor murmured, “I’m sorry I missed practice today.” 

The pained look on Yakov’s face deepened, and Yuuri’s fear melted away at how  _ concerned _ he looked. 

“Don’t worry about that now, synok,” Yakov said, crouching to Viktor’s level again. Viktor blinked away a few stray tears, and for the first time Yuuri noticed how the rough edges to Yakov’s voice hid the emotion in it, “I’ll make you practice doubly hard tomorrow, to make up from it.”

Viktor let out a soft giggle. Yakov smiled at him, the expression strange on his face. It was a moment of calm, of peace, as some cartoon droned on in the background, broken only as Makkachin let out a whine and snuffled at Viktor’s hair. 

The moment was over. Yakov sighed, stood up on creaking joints, and disappeared into the cold night. 

“Yuuri,” Hiroko said, “Do you want to set up the mattress in your room for Vicchan to sleep on? There should be more of Mari’s old clothes in the linen closet, and an extra toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet.” 

At his name, Vicchan the puppy perked up from where he’d been dozing in the corner, and he padded over to the boys and Makkachin. Yuuri nodded, scratching him behind the ears absently. 

“C’mon,” Yuuri said, pulling Makkachin off Viktor, giggling as Makkachin licked him playfully. “Want to get ready for bed?”

Viktor followed obediently. He took Yuuri’s hand and let him lead him upstairs, the dogs nipping at their heels all the way up. 

 

* * *

Yuuri rolled out the thick mattress, almost as big as himself rolled up, while Viktor sat on the floor, laughing as the poodles rolled around and bit at each other. Vicchan seemed to have more energy than Makkachin, prancing all over him as Makkachin gave up and curled into a ball on the floor. 

“M’not sleepy,” Viktor said, reaching over to lift up Vicchan and cuddle him.

“I’m not tired either,” Yuuri sighed, thinking back to his nap earlier. Sure, it had been an exhausting day, but he had slept away most of the afternoon, warm under the kotatsu. “Want to read a comic book?”

Viktor shrugged, sluggish despite not wanting to sleep. Vicchan wriggled out of his grasp.

“Do you want to bug Mari for the computer?”

Another shrug. Viktor’s eyes seemed to glaze over as he watched the puppies play on the floor. Yuuri bit his lip and sat in front of him, sitting on his heels, hands clenched into fists on his heels. 

“Vitya,” he murmured, stealing Yakov’s nickname because it wasn’t  _ fair _ if only Yakov got to call him that, “What do you want?”

Viktor blinked like he hadn’t understood the question. There was a painfully long pause while Yuuri waited for the wheels in his head to process - then, finally, Yuuri saw a spark of light behind the blankness in his eyes.

“I want,” Viktor said, the words forming like a foreign language on his tongue, “I want a hug.”

Yuuri nodded, determined. He could do that.

Hugging Viktor was warmth, comfort. Viktor was older, so he was bigger - and yet he somehow seemed to be trying to shrink so as to fit completely between Yuuri’s arms. Yuuri blushed, hoping once more that Viktor could hear his heartbeat, steady and unwavering in his chest.

The extent of the situation was lost on Yuuri. He hadn’t understood, truly, what Yakov was saying about Viktor and his father. He’d hit Viktor, apparently, but he couldn’t even grasp the extent of that in his head because the thought of Toshiya hitting him was so utterly unbelievable. 

After a few long moments, Yuuri sighed, sitting on the mattress he’d meant for Viktor and shifting awkwardly as Viktor insisted on staying buried against him. Yuuri wondered how long they’d stay like that, but he figured so long as it made Viktor feel safe, it was okay. 

There was something swirling in his stomach, a mixture of happy and confused. It was a sleepover, it was  _ fun _ ! 

Viktor wasn’t smiling like it was fun, though, and Yuuri found himself furious at his far-away father, who had ruined their first ever playdate with his cruel, cruel hands.

_ He wasn’t so brave when I showed up at his door with a hockey stick.  _ Yuuri wanted to do that, too, because he hated seeing his happy Viktor so sad. 

Maybe one day, when he was bigger and stronger… Well, maybe he would.

For now, though, he just wanted Viktor to sleep - or at least to know he was safe. 

“You’re safe with me,” Yuuri murmured, because it seemed like the right thing to say.

He entered into a contract then, one without official terms or signatures, one firmly situated just in his own mind. He’d protect Viktor - from bullies, from problems, from his own father if need be. Yuuri would do anything in his power to keep Viktor safe.

“I believe you,” Viktor said.

And oh,  _ oh _ , didn’t those words sound nice?

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you have any comments or constructive criticism! Writing kids is really hard lol.
> 
> Also, say hi on [tumblr](https://revampired.tumblr.com).


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